More Important Than Ever

You may have noticed that my blog has been pretty quiet this summer. I think I’ve had trouble writing through the noise.

Beginning in January, our home has been adjacent to a major construction project. By “adjacent” I mean that my office window is forty feet from heavy machinery that rumbles, buzzes, crunches, beeps, bangs, scrapes, and rattles the nerves from seven in the morning until six in the evening five days a week. The noise and inconvenience has really taken a toll on me, and it is far from over, but I can’t just stick my head in the ground and wait for it to end because, A) I’d probably still be able to hear it, and B) Life must go on!

The things that help quiet the rattling inside me and bring a smile to my face are still here. My trail camera is full of adorable photos and funny videos of the wildlife that comes out at night, and I can turn my back on the construction eyesore and gaze at my garden instead. I can curl up in a corner at the back of our house to read a book or take my computer to a coffee shop or library to write.

These quiet moments are still around. I just have to remind myself to seek them out.

This summer, the Poetry Society of Texas published its latest Book of the Year, and I’m proud to have three poems in the anthology. I want to share two of them with you today. Both of these poems embody the feeling I’m looking for when the world gets too noisy.

I wrote “Between the Branches,” which won the Poetry Society of Texas Purple Martin Award, back in 2018. I like how it reminds me to be still and notice nature, and I’m hoping if enough people read it, the last stanza will conjure up some rain for us.

“Immersed,” which won the Poetry Society of Texas Annual Awards Banquet Award, is a new poem. I wrote it last year when I was reading my way through Devotions by Mary Oliver. This poem is about nature, but also about the unexpected power of words and that magical feeling of discovering a poem as you write it.

When your mind is noisy and the world feels itchy, it’s more important than ever to escape into the things that bring you peace and joy. Poetry and art and books and trees and foxes and gardens– these are the antidotes.

I hope a line in one of these poems is the cure you need.

* * *

Between the Branches

Life listens
to our bustle
sleeps in shadows
watches
waiting for us 
to notice it
Hindsight hides
in secret spaces
where nature knows
no harm
Creatures take comfort
in being left alone
Immobile means invisible
and privacy protects

But I have learned to look
between the branches
to stand still
and let the
spectators stir
to breathe deep
and sink into the soil

Do you know what happens
when you stand in the rain?
You get wet
and learn 
to keep your eyes open

	- Carie Juettner

* * *

Immersed

I open Devotions
ready to sink into 
Mary Oliver’s poetry
and rise again with my own.
I dive, eyes closed,
into the refreshing pool
of her words
sense my body
slip beneath the surface.
I dip my fingers in the soft mud
grasp a pebble
turning it in my palm
learning its texture and tells
blindly searching for my inspiration
not noticing how long it’s been
since I took a breath
or how deep my quest has taken me.
A tap on my shoulder—
I whirl, glimpse a mermaid
swimming away
realize my eyes are open
and I’ve been breathing all along.
I look down 
at the stone in my hand
and find the poem
I’ve been looking for.

	- Carie Juettner